


The Nature of Forgiveness

by garbagecan_not_garbagecannot



Series: The Nature of... [2]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, F/M, M/M, Sibling Incest, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 14:06:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15753240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garbagecan_not_garbagecannot/pseuds/garbagecan_not_garbagecannot
Summary: Dante has been angry with his brother and grieved him in turns. With Vergil dead and gone, the anger is just ashes and Dante's left to deal with the fallout.And then Vergil comes back.





	The Nature of Forgiveness

The thing is, Dante's been pissed at his brother for years. Ever since their mother died and Vergil got less and less personable, became less and less like the brother he'd once been, ever since Vergil started shutting himself away, Dante's been pissed.

The anger was increased when Vergil _ left. _ Just up and fucked off one day, leaving Dante behind in the house that had one been their home.

Dante had, at the time, hated his brother as much as he loved him.

But considering how easily discarded Dante had been, the sentiment of love was clearly not reciprocated.

He'd learned to live with that, with a brother who didn't want anything to do with him even though they were twins, the only ones of their kind, the last of their family, forever tied together by the epithet Son of Sparda.

And then Vergil had gotten it into his asshole moron head to raise Temen-ni-gru and break the seal between the Human and Demon worlds. In his dumb quest for power he'd tried to kill Dante, and it had been a painful reminder that his brother has discarded him.

And then even at the end, once they'd finally fought back-to-back once more, united in their goal and better than ever… Vergil threw him away again. Decided to stay in the demon world and slashed Dante's hand to stop him from  _ saving _ Vergil.

That wound never healed right. It's a thick and red scar across his hand and every time Dante thinks of his brother, it aches. Fiercely.

He wears gloves to hide it, to not be constantly reminded when he sees it; out of sight, out of mind.

Lady turned out to be a good friend. She stuck around after everything went down, mostly doing her own shit but showing up for pizza parties, comparing demon hunting techniques and occasionally being magnanimous enough to lend Dante money.

Because that's another fucking thing. When Vergil went and fucked off, he grabbed most of the money they could get to from their parents. Which means he was rich and Dante's fucking poor as hell.

He got some money from selling shit from the house, but most of that is tied up in rent and shit for the shop, leaving Dante with… limited funds.

So for Vergil to fuck off and leave the human realm without even telling Dante where the money is… fucking piece of shit asshole.

If he ever gets the chance, he's gonna punch his stupid brother in his asshole face like a million times before he's done.

So yeah, Dante's been fucking pissed as hell at his brother for years.

But then…

Trish. Mallet Island. Nelo Angelo. Mundus.

Betrayal again, but the anger is gone.

It's hard to be mad at the dead.

Even after a second betrayal—how could Vergil have joined Mundus—it’s more or less impossible for Dante to be angry. The grief overshadows it all.

He'd grieved Vergil after he stayed in the underworld, but on some level knowing that he was at least still alive had been enough to sustain the flames of Dante's anger.

This is different.

Vergil is dead and at Dante's own hands.

It was Dante himself who killed his brother. There's no vengeance to be had, no one to feel anger towards.

It's all just ashes.

Trish coming back to life and joining him as his work partner is a stroke of luck. It's possible Dante would have completely self-destructed without her. Lady just isn't around enough to save Dante from himself.

It fucking sucks that he needs that help, and he's ashamed that the burden gets put on her shoulders. But in the end, all Trish does once it starts getting too much for her is get her own apartment away from Devil May Cry so she has some distance from Dante when she needs it.

But she's still there for him, a solid friend and partner.

So when Dante buys enough alcohol to sustain a party for hundreds, fakely laughing with the shop keeps about what an amazing party he's throwing, and goes into Devil May Cry’s basement to drink away a week or two, it's Trish who drags him out.

She doesn't put up with any of his shit for more than a week and if he's not done drinking until his superhuman healing is the only thing keeping him alive by then, well, tough luck.

Fighting demons while drunk or hungover is a supremely unpleasant experience.

The guts and gore that goes flying usually don't faze him at all, but in this state they makes his stomach turn and not a few times does he have to pause to throw up mid-fight. Which generally means getting stabbed, which sets off his healing, and sooner than he'd like he's sober and aware—once more capable of feeling and grieving.

“Shame that.” Trish is entirely without sympathy whenever he bitches at her for it, but… somehow it works. The unstoppable need for drinking himself into a coma lessens in frequency and he starts recovering.

Of course, recovering means even less sympathy from Trish and Lady and they soon start ganging up on him when it comes to missions and work and even the décor of Devil May Cry. They're shit out of luck with the last one, though, Dante's not gonna change it for the world.

Life moves on, missions come and go, and Dante gets older. He racks up more and more years without his brother.

And then… Lady comes in with a mission about the Order of the Sword based in Fortuna City, possibly doing bad shit using any demon they can get a hold off, and since Trish is eager enough to do it, well, Dante follows.

It quickly becomes clear that Lady’s fears are justified. Dante senses several smaller Demon gates around the city, and numerous demons that have already made use of them. A message from Trish makes it clear that the Order is looking to take over the world using a “Savior” that is in part powered by the sword Sparda—because of course Trish gave that to them, Dante thinks with a sigh—and in part… well, Trish wasn't sure but she believed they wanted Dante as the secondary power source.

Which, while making sense, is rather insulting.

The last bit of Trish’s message is to let him know that the Order has Yamato, though the sword is apparently broken.

Dante rolls his shoulders, and cracks his knuckles. Might as well go for the big fish first. If His Holiness wants to use Dante as a power source, then Dante's just going to have to show him what he thinks about that.

#

Blood splatters against Dante's face, and for a brief moment he wonders if his senses tricked him.

But no, he senses that His Holiness is still alive and quite healthy despite being shot in the head by Ivory, which puts him cleanly in the “not fully human” category.

He turns around, and in the middle of the sea of followers, one stands out.

White hair.

Pale skin.

For a brief moment, Dante thinks he's looking at his brother.

But the illusion quickly shatters, even in the haze of fighting. Vergil is still dead, but there is a very interesting kid in Fortuna.

_ Fighting _ the kid is even more interesting, because he has a hell of a time holding back enough to not plummet the kid completely without making it obvious that he's holding back at all.

And then the kid pulls out some pretty sweet looking demon abilities and Dante gets himself impaled on his own sword again.

Damnit.

Well, at least no one was around to see that except the kid himself.

He hears the sound of approaching footsteps and decides that enough is enough, it's time to blow this popsicle stand and continue his investigation into the Order’s dealings.

“Adiós, kid.”

#

Dante keeps an eye on the kid even as he gets further and further information about the Order, and the more Dante looks at the kid, the more time he senses his presence, the more certain he becomes that somehow…  _ somehow  _ the kid is Vergil's son.

That the kid manages to repair Yamato and have her answer his call is proof enough. The way his spiritual devil trigger looks doesn't hurt either.

Or, well, it does, but only emotionally, because seeing something so similar to his brother hurts. Seeing what's likely his nephew hurts.

But that's life and he's got a job to do, no time for allowing his emotions to get the better of him.

He'll just have to drink himself under the table once it's all over.

#

All in all, the mission to Fortuna wasn't that bad on the scale of things. While big, the Savior wasn't all that impressive and Dante didn't even have to pull his devil trigger while fighting it.

Still, fighting to get your blood pumping is never unwelcome and Nero proves his potential, which makes Dante smile.

Then Nero tries to give Yamato back, and Dante feels a shudder run up his spine. The thought of having Vergil's sword in his home, the constant reminder, is unwelcome. But it's still his brother's sword, the last piece of his brother that exists in this world… But Nero _has_ to be Vergil's kid.

Let him get a little inheritance.

“Keep it.”

And ultimately, only a gift that means a lot to you is worth giving.

#

“For fuck’s sake, Dante. I thought you were over this.” Trish looks disappointed where she looms over Dante, as does Lady next to her.

Dante's not sure how many bottles of various types of alcohol and liquor he's finished by now, but he's likely a sad fucking sight.

Still, the pleasant swimming numbness is just what he needs right now.

“Fuck off. I have no missions and seeing what's likely my dead brother’s kid fucked me up.” He slings an arm over his eyes, and with determination does not look at the scar on his hand.

Silence, blessed silence.

“Well then. Let's leave the sad-sack for a week to drink himself into a better mood. Meanwhile you can tell me about this ‘brother's kid’ thing,” Lady says to Trish.

Retreating footsteps, the creaking of the basement staircase, and then Dante's finally alone again.

Vergil is…

More alcohol it is.

#

Time continues to pass, as it's wont to do, and Dante finds himself feeling a bit better.

He leans back in his chair, legs thrown up on the desk as he watches Trish and Lady go at it about something or other. He takes a bite of pizza and leaves them to it, he doesn't want to get involved at all. Better to let them get it out of their systems. He swears it's like foreplay for them.

The door to Devil May Cry opens and... huh, Nero and his girlfriend step inside.

"Hey Trish! Look who's here! What are you doing here, kid?"

The kid scratches his cheek and shrugs, trying—and failing—to look casual.

"Well, Kyrie wanted to meet you," he says, tilting his head to the girl—Kyrie. She smiles and waves slightly.

"I-I just wanted to say thank you! You did so much for the whole of Fortuna City that it felt wrong to not even thank you properly..."

Hah, that's sweet of her.

"No sweat. I've done worse shit for less, no need for thanks," he says and laughs.

Lady lets out a loud snort. As he turns to look at her, he can see her smirk clearly.

"I would be interested in seeing you rank your more...  _ arduous _ missions by their difficulty sometime, Dante," she says and crosses her arms over her chest.

Now there's a thought.

"Maybe one day, Lady. Maybe one day." Not likely to be any time soon. He'd rather forget everything about Temen-ni-gru and Mallet Island forever; losing his brother and then losing him all over again.

Nero shifts from foot to foot, before he finally blurts out, "Hey Dante, do you owe a demon money or something?"

Dante blinks in surprise. Not... quite what he expected from Nero.

"Uh, no... The only one I tend to owe money is Lady.” He waves his hand towards the woman in question, who gives Nero a little wave of her hand and a wide smirk. “Why do you ask?"

"There was this weird guy hanging around outside in a ratty black cloak with a huge scythe on his back, I couldn't see his face, but my arm lit up like a beacon so he has to be a demon," Nero says and gestures to his arm as he talks.

"I think he noticed that we saw him, but he didn't move. Not at all," Kyrie quickly adds in, wringing her hands.

Nero nods, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah, Kyrie's right. There's no way he didn't notice that we saw him, but he was like a statue."

Dante rubs his chin and sits up properly in his seat.

"Huh, that's interesting. A huge scythe, you say? Not a description I recognise. Well, if he's here to cause trouble, he showed up with the absolute worst possible timing."

Sounds slightly similar to one of the scythe demons, for obvious reasons, but from how they described it, it sounds like a humanoid demon.

He may as well check it out immediately. If it is someone who's out to get him, he's better off coming to them, rather than giving them more time to set something up and come after him.

He gets to his feet and brushes his pants off, before he sets Ebony and Ivory to his belt.

”Where did you say he was? I’ll pop my head out and check.”

He heads towards the door at a sedate pace, he’s not exactly in a hurry.

"You're gonna go out there alone? What if he attacks you?" Nero objects, surprised and with a dismayed look on his face. At his side, Kyrie looks nervous, biting her lip and wringing her hands as she looks between them—she may be uncertain whether she wants Nero entirely safe or if she wants him to help.

Dante laughs, unconcerned. If there was a demon here of the kind of strength where he needs to worry, then either Dante would have sensed it or it would be too late already. Most likely anyway.

"Then I'll just kick his ass. Now where was he?" Dante says as he stops just inside the doors, hand on it and ready to push it open.

"He was to our right when we came, so to the left from here." Nero's shoulders slump slightly as if resigned. Behind him Dante can see Trish and Lady shake their heads in amusement.

"Got it," he says and pushes the door open, stepping out into the bright sunlight.

He looks to his left as the door closes behind him, but there’s no one there.

Huh.

Maybe the were just scouting the area and will be back later?

"Huh, I guess he mo—."

”I’m right here,” a voice so intimately familiar and awfully missed says, interrupting Dante before he can finish.

Dante’s throat closes and he freezes in place, hurt and grief welling up in his chest.

There’s no way.

"Hah... Guess I've finally gone crazy."

What other explanation could there be? Grief can do awful shit to a person and there’s just no way it can be him.

“You’ve always been crazy.”

Well fuck. It really does sound like him. Dante laughs, but entirely without humour. He feels frail in a way he’s not used to, isn’t sure he’s ever experienced before.

"I've never heard voices before,” he says, because hearing ghosts and talking to them probably isn’t all that different.

"And you're so sure you are now? The kids did say they saw someone."

Dante can’t bear to even think his name these days. He’s dead and gone and have been for years and they never had a chance to reconcile. He never had a chance to punch his brother in his stupid face for being an idiot.

"They did. But he probably fucked off. There's no way it could be you." He needs to stop humouring this figment of his imagination.

"And why is that?"

Dante can’t bear to turn around. If he does, the illusion will break and reality will set in again. Besides, even if this ghost was his brother, there’s no way it would end well. It never did before.

"Cause you're dead, Vergil." The words seem to almost burn his tongue. A name he hasn’t uttered in years falling from his lips.

The scar on his hand pulses and aches.

He closes his eyes and keeps his breathing level.

”Am I?”

Fuck if Dante’s imagination isn’t cruel.

"I killed you. You worked for Mundus and I killed you." The truth is so very painful. His last living family member gone by his own hand. Died as a twisted and grotesque imitation of himself. A second betrayal.

"I didn't work for Mundus, and I didn't help Mundus." Anger makes its way into the voice for the first time.

"Could have fooled me, Nelo Angelo." Dante only barely refrains from spitting the words out as he crosses his arms over his chest to center himself.

"The first thing I did after I stayed behind in the underworld, still weakened by our fight, was to battle against Mundus. I lost. He proceeded to rip my soul out of my body and use it as a puppet for his own ends as he kept my soul around as a power source."

It becomes hard to breathe. There’s no way his own mind could come up with something like that.

”What?” he croaks, voice cracking as the word falls out of his mouth without his permission.

"Mundus happily spent a few years playing around with and experimenting with my soulless body for his own ends. It looked... quite ugly by the end of it, don't you agree? He didn't want you to take a too close a look at it after you defeated Nelo Angelo for the final time, so he teleported it further into the castle."

Dante shudders and tries to keep his breathing even. It can’t be.

"As for having your soul separated from your body, I wouldn't recommend the experience. It's utterly agonising."

He would be an unfeeling asshole about something like this, wouldn’t he?

So if Dante accepts that this is real, that it really is Vergil standing behind him and being an asshole, then what?

"So why are you here, Vergil? And how?"

Is it Yamato? Dante feels a hint of nerves in his stomach, he gave her away to the kid. If Vergil finds out…

"Well, my body finally threw off Mundus' corruption, so my soul returned to it. As to why I'm here... Can't I be visiting my younger brother?"

Dante clenches his teeth together to refrain from letting out an incredulous laugh. As if Vergil would ever come for Dante. He’s made that much very clear over the years.

"Cut the crap, Vergil. I know there's no way you're here just to see me. So what is it? Do I have something you want? A devil arm? Your half of mom's amulet? What is it?"

The sooner he can get rid of him, the less it will hurt. If he has no chance to get his hopes up, they can’t be dashed.

Silence reigns for a while, heavy and oppressive. Dante waits to have his heart broken again.

His brother has never wanted him as much as he wants his brother. And definitely not in the same way.

"While I would like my half of the amulet back, it's not why I'm here. I really did just come to see you. There isn't much of anything worth anything to me, in this or the demon world." Sincerity. It's almost odd to hear it in Vergil’s voice, as if it wasn’t made to express that kind of thing.

Dante feels his throat close, just slightly. He smoothens his expression out and turns to face his demons.

He watches as the figure slips the hood off, a slightly dirty version of Vergil’s face appearing, hair slicked back as usual, but coming loose as if it was done with water rather than hair products. He's more dishevelled than Dante's ever seen him before.

He swallows and tries to get himself together, tries to figure out what he should say or do. Or even how to feel.

"Fine. You can come inside, but don't think for even a second that I'm not watching you, Vergil." In the back of his mind Dante wonders if this is a mistake, if he should just go after his brother with a weapon and try to have it be over with.

"Acknowledged," Vergil says and inclines his head, eyes never leaving Dante’s.

Breaking the eye contact, Dante turns on his heel and makes for the door again, even though he’s not looking forward to Trish or Lady’s reactions.

He pushes it open to find everyone standing more or less where he left them, though Trish is no longer in the room.

"Oh, you're back. Who wa—" Lady stops mid sentence, her face turning dark. "And here I was under the impression that you were dead, Vergil."

Dante winces at her tone even though he isn’t the least bit surprised at her reaction. She and Trish has both had front row seats to his self-destruction over his brother's death over the years, and she likely still harbours ill will from Temen-ni-gru.

"I wasn't aware I was ever a topic of discussion between you and my brother."

Dante’s wince deepens, he wasn't, not in so many words and  _ those _ are fighting words, but he really doesn’t want a fight to break out right now.

“Brother?” Nero’s confused exclamation breaks the tension and draws the attention to him instead. Which, honestly, Dante would have preferred not to have happen considering he’s got Yamato and if Vergil  _ is _ here to get a hold of his sword…

"Yeah. Nero, Kyrie, meet my older twin brother Vergil. The rumours of his death were apparently exaggerated," he says, unable to keep his annoyance out of his voice. He’s been grieving for years and here Vergil is, just fine and not dead. The anger he thought were ashes rekindling into flames.

"Not quite exaggerated, more like premature. It  _ was _ quite close." Vergil’s voice is light, but not teasing or even amused, simply… without care. As if this isn’t a serious matter at all.

Dante snorts. Perhaps this  _ isn’t _ a serious matter for Vergil. He’s not the one who was left behind after all. Besides, Vergil hasn’t seemed to care about anyone’s emotions since mom died.

"Well, well, well. And here I was quite certain you'd perished as Mundus' little servant, Vergil," Trish says then, coming from the kitchen.

"I'm not certain you're the right person to talk about being Mundus' servant, are you?" Vergil returns, seemingly unaffected by the taunt.

And then, without warning, Trish collapses to the floor with a gasp.

FUCK.

He should have  _ known _ .

He rounds on Vergil, slamming him into the wall and keeping him there with a palm pressed against his chest. Not yet hurting but absolutely ready to do so in an instant.

He should have  _ known _ Vergil was gonna pull some shit. But no, of course he just  _ had _ to hope that things would be better, that Vergil wasn’t lying.

Fucking idiot.

"What the fuck did you do, Vergil?!" He presses the flat of his palm harder against Vergil’s chest, getting up close and person, almost in his face.

Vergil doesn’t respond, only wraps his hand around Dante’s wrist, squeezing it, holding his hand there. He stares at Vergil’s face, but Vergil neither looks at him nor says anything.

The silence stretches, and then finally Vergil meets his gaze head on. “Nothing,” he says, as if there’s any way Dante would believe that.

“What’s going on?” It’s rare for Lady to sound worried, so it immediately draws Dante’s attention. He turns to look, but doesn’t let up with the pressure he’s exercising on Vergil’s chest, and sees a glowing ball that’s radiating power rise up from Trish’s chest.

"What the fuck are you doing, Vergil. Why did you attack her? What is that glowing ball?" As far as Dante knows, there should be no reason for Vergil to go after Trish of all people. Is that some left-over power from Mundus? Is that what Vergil was after?

What is odd though is the fact that Vergil remains unmoving, he doesn’t so much as twitch. If this was something he wanted…

"I'm not doing anything and I don't know what that is," Vergil says, as if there’s any way in hell anyone would believe that.

Dante grits his teeth and watches as the glowing ball of light comes ever closer, dreading what will happen once it reaches them. But considering that Nero and Kyrie’s hands just pass through the ball without stopping it, he doesn’t think there’s anything he can do either.

He watches as it merges with Vergil,  _ feels _ the boost to Vergil’s power, and frowns.

"Trish, please answer me," Lady's voice is tightly controlled, drawing Dante’s attention back to her.

He increases the pressure he’s holding Vergil still with, just to make sure he doesn’t get any ideas about moving or trying to escape.

"I'm okay, Lady, I'm alright," Trish gasps, clutching at Lady's arms as she helps her to her feet. Relief floods Dante at seeing that she’s seemingly unhurt and okay by her own words.

But if she isn’t hurt, though she’s clearly unsteady on her feet, then what on earth  _ was _ that?

Dante looks between Trish and Vergil, unsure who he should be focusing on, when Trish—eyes trained at Vergil—finally speaks again.

"It was  _ you _ ," she says, her voice is strained and thin, and she’s paler than usual.

A quick glance at Vergil tells Dante that he’s only raised an eyebrow but otherwise haven’t reacted at all.

" _ You _ were the one who...  _ Why?" _ Trish is finally standing on her own again, no longer leaning on Lady.

So Vergil did something. Of  _ course _ he did. The question is only what.

“What did he do, Trish?” Dante has no interest in beating around the bush anymore. He needs to know what he should do, how bad the situation is.

"He brought me back to life on Mallet island. I would be  _ dead _ if not for him."

Dante's brain screeches to a halt.

What?

He stares at his brother, unable to wrap his head around the words.

Vergil saved Trish?

There's a part of Dante, a small vulnerable part that he's tried so hard to bury, that begins to hope.

“Vergil?” His brother’s name falls from his lips as he stares at him.

Dante relaxes just slightly, waiting for Vergil to respond. They're so close, so very close, almost entirely pressed together.

He watches as Vergil's gaze seems to linger on his lips, before Vergil closes his eyes and breathes out a small sigh—soft as a butterfly's wing.

"It was hardly altruistic on my part, but yes, I did bring you back to life,” Vergil finally says, and Dante wonders what reason he had. What motivated him into saving Trish?

"Is that why you came here? To get the power you imbued Trish with to revive her back? To get Yamato?" Oh how Dante wishes it was something else, but he has to be realistic. Vergil has betrayed him enough times already.

Vergil's eyes open again, meeting Dante's and holding his gaze steadily.

"If I wanted my sword back, Dante, I wouldn't have come here," he says, and raises an eyebrow.

What?

“Why not?”

Where  _ else _ would he go? He couldn't possibly know that Dante not only lost his sword, but also—!

"Because, my dear, stupid little brother, I know you gave my sword away."

Oh fuck. Shit. Fuck fuck fuck.

How the  _ fuck _ does he know that?

"You, uh, knew that, huh?" Dante rubs the back of his neck, unable to meet Vergil's gaze, but also making sure not to so much as glance in Nero’s direction. The kid doesn't deserve having Vergil's attention focused on him.

"Oh yes, and don't think for even a minute that I won't beat you into a bloody pulp for it."

What?! That's  _ entirely _ unfair!

"You were dead!"

It was completely okay for Dante to give Yamato away under the circumstances! Especially considering Nero's…  _ likely  _ parentage.

"So you decide to give away a family heirloom capable of opening portals to the demon world to some random kid who happened to impress you?" Vergil looks both entirely unamused and unimpressed.

Dante only barely refrains from gaping. Does Vergil also knows  _ who _ Dante gave Yamato to? How the  _ hell? _ Has he been spying?

That would both explain how he knows this shit but also mean that he was lying about only recently regaining his body…

"Oh come on, Vergil! The kid isn't going to—!"

If he's been spying long enough to know, then he should know what Nero did and went through in Fortuna.

"How long did you know him before you gave it away?"

Aaaand obviously doesn't care and doesn't think it's a reflection of character. What the fuck, Vergil.

"Uh, I guess I should give this to you?" Nero suddenly says, holds out Yamato towards Vergil.

Dante cannot help but enjoy the fact that Vergil looks as surprised as Dante feels. What the fuck, kid. After all the grief he gave Dante about needing the power and then actually being allowed to keep it… why the hell would he give something as powerful as Yamato away like this?

"I mean... If you're alive, it wasn't exactly Dante's sword to give away, was it?" Nero sounds incredibly awkward, but Dante can't tear his gaze from his brother to check.

"You do realise what you're doing, right?" The old Vergil would never have asked. Hell, he wouldn't have waited for the kid to offer in the first place. He would have taken what he wanted, simple as that.

The treacherous feeling of hope bubbles in Dante's gut.

Fuck.

He can't bear to get his hopes up only to have them dashed again. He's lost his family too many times already, one by one. He cannot take another betrayal by Vergil.

Nero says something, but Dante isn't listening. The world has narrowed down to only Dante and his brother and the small physical space they currently inhabit.

“Dante.” Vergil's voice calling his name startles him out of his thoughts.

"Uh, yeah, V?" The old nickname slips out entirely without Dante's permission, but Vergil doesn't seem to react beyond a slight tensing and relaxation of his muscles.

"Give him a devil arm."

What?

He blurts out his confused surprise.

Vergil completely ignores Dante, his attention now entirely on Nero.

"You're a swordsman, correct?" He both sounds and looks judging. Dante winces on the kid's behalf. Then, without turning his attention back to Dante, he says, "Give him one of your swords, and teach him how to use it."

The loss of Vergil's grip around his wrist is like a punch in the chest, not helped by the palm pushing him away, leaving Dante reeling and aching from the sudden space between them. Even so, he doesn't resist. He lets himself be moved and watches the situation unfold, on high alert for anything fucked up on Vergil's side.

He watches Vergil take Yamato with reverence, sees them reconnect, and watches in awe as the sheathe reforms from his brother's blood upon her blade.

Despite the dirt, the frayed cloak, the ugly scythe on his back… Vergil has never been more beautiful.

"Thank you. I did not believe I'd ever have her again,” Vergil's words are soft and sincere. Dante feels as if he's been slapped in the face. This is…

He stares.

A Vergil he never thought he'd see again. His brother, calm and poised rather than cold and heartless, and polite rather than cruel.

Dante idly wonders if this is all a dream, just one more time his brain torments him with what he cannot have, what he lost so long ago. The twin brother that was once his perfect complement, his other half and opposite.

He wonders how long the drunken stupor he'll have to drink himself into to forget will last this time.

"Well then, get the kid a good sword, Dante. Maybe Alastor, adding some elemental properties could be good for him... But do teach him how to use it. His technique with Yamato was... inadequate,” Vergil says, getting rid of his demon equipment, because Vergil wouldn't be Vergil if he wasn't snide at least once.

Wait.

What?

"Alastor?” He grabs Vergil by the shoulder. “Are you crazy? That sword doesn't accept anyone without testing them first and I'd rather avoid getting the kid impaled and electrocuted—at the same time. Who knows how his healing stacks up compared to ours. Besides, where are you even going?"

Vergil finally meets his eyes again.

"I am going to raid your closet for your least awful clothing, then I am going to take a shower. After that, I'm going to sleep. And if not Alastor, then some other sword shaped devil arm you've picked up." He tries to shake off Dante's grip, but Dante won't relent. What does Vergil think he's playing at?

"Who said you get to do that?"

" _ I _ said so." The smirk on Vergil's face as he pulls free is entirely ‘smug older brother’ and the affronted little brother inside him wells up for the first time since childhood. What the fuck.

He stares after his brother even after the door closes behind him and startles a bit when Lady clears her throat. He'd almost forgotten they were all there.

"So uh, Nero, Kyrie, that was my older brother, Vergil." He scratches the back of his head, awkward and wrong footed. Fucking Vergil.

"An unusually polite Vergil,” Trish says, arms crossed over her chest. She… isn't wrong, Dante noticed as much himself.

"I guess having his soul ripped out of his body was good for him..." Dante says to himself, but louder than intended as…

"Having  _ what?!" _ everyone shouts, clearly having heard him.

Dante coughs into his fist and makes his way back to the desk to sit down. He's still reeling, barely capable of believing what just happened.

“That's what he said, anyway,” he says with a shrug, trying to play it cool. Trying to ignore how the hope bubbling inside him is warring with the rekindled anger, the rage. The hatred he's carried since the first time Vergil left.

Anger that violently rejects the notion that Vergil came back for him. No. Vergil is definitely playing some sort of long con, Dante just haven't figured out what he's after yet.

“Hm, I guess that would have changed his general approach to the world,” Lady says and leans against the desk.

“Possibly,” Dante murmurs, leaning his head on his fist.

“What was Mister Vergil's previous approach to the world?” Kyrie asks, voice timid. A glance in her direction makes it clear that she's both biting her lip and clutching her hands together over her chest.

“Take what I want regardless of anyone else as I chase power, to the point of being willing to open a portal to the demon world in the form of the tower Temen-ni-gru.” Lady’s voice is arch and she purses her lips, eyebrows knitting together.

“A cold unfeeling bastard and more or less the exact opposite of Dante,” Trish adds.

It's an… unflattering picture to say the least, but it's not wrong. That is who Vergil is. Was. Is?

“A piece of shit who decided that power was more important than his last living family member and who was completely willing to walk over my corpse to get it.” It's anger that makes him talk, makes him reveal just a bit of what he feels.

He sees the worried glances Trish and Lady shares, but he keeps his focus on Nero and Kyrie.

“... And I gave him Yamato…” Nero looks horrified. “Why didn't you stop me?” he shouts, flushing with anger.

Dante shrugs slightly. “He seems different. Besides, if he was after Yamato and I stopped a peaceful handing over, odds are he'd come after you later when I'm not there to take her by force instead. So even if he  _ hasn't _ changed, it seemed like the best bet.”

Nero winces and frowns.

“You don't think I can take him?” Ah. Clearly Nero's pride is smarting.

“Nero, between Dante and Vergil, Vergil has generally been the more powerful, though they’ve always been fairly equal. I can't accurately tell you how it is now, but I would wager that Dante is stronger these days, at least slightly.” Trish pauses and her eyes stares into Nero's. “But unless you’re certain you can take Dante on,  _ properly, _ and live to tell the tale… Unless you think you can decisively win, you shouldn't think you can take on Vergil. Because unlike Dante, Vergil would not spare you or hold back.”

Nero sneaks a look at Dante, then he looks at Kyrie, and then he sighs.

“Fine.” He looks put out but resigned. Well, at least he's got a good head on his shoulders.

“Hey, don't worry about it, kid. We've got years of experience on you.  _ And _ our demon blood is less diluted.” Dante shrugs one shoulder. “Doesn’t mean we’ll always be stronger than you, but it probably helps.”

Vergil was right though, he should give the kid a devil arm and teach him how to use it properly.

“How do you know my demon blood is more diluted? How do you even know I have demon blood? I could be the result of the Order’s experiments, couldn't I?” Suspicion is clear on Nero’s face.

Dante wonders if Nero knows, or suspects, that Vergil is his father or perhaps thinks  _ Dante  _ is—perish the thought. Well, now's not really the time anyway, especially since Dante don't know Vergil's motives yet. Better to hold off.

“You've got the hair and eyes, kid. That's what hybrids get. My mom’s hair and eyes were brown, but here I am.” He shrugs. “As for the question of dilution, that goes to your devil trigger. I don't know if you'll be able to get a full one, or if your arm acts as a sort of permanent type and that's why yours is only a spirit, but well… who knows. Maybe one day you'll be able to.”

Nero frowns.

“What's a full devil trigger look like, then?”

Dante just smirks.

He triggers.

Fully and properly, not just the arm as when Nero was repeatedly punching him in the face back in Fortuna, and floods the room with power.

“Something like this,” he says, voice echoing slightly. “The Order’s demon transformations were likely based on my devil trigger when it comes to function. Look like a human, trigger to look like a demon.”

Dante shrugs one of his scaled and armoured shoulders and releases the trigger, returning to his regular state.

“I don't use it much, because I generally don't need it. Most things I fight aren't strong enough to warrant it.” He drags a hand through his white hair and gets to his feet.

“Enough about that, now. Let's go find you a good devil arm to use.”

#

Blade to blade, Nero is fierce. It makes Dante grin widely to see how far the kid has come and how much he's grown, even just since the last time they fought.

Onyxia is a good match for him, far better than Yamato ever was. Besides, the water element to Onyxia gives Nero more of an edge.

It had been interesting to watch the kid fight against her as she tested him, unwilling to let just anyone handle her. Her waves had crashed over him as her handle turned both boiling hot and freezing cold, but throughout it all, Nero held on, proving himself.

Good thing Trish and Lady were there though, because Kyrie had looked three seconds from throwing herself at the sword to try and help Nero the entire time and  _ that _ would have ended badly.

“Onyxia is amazing, are you sure I can have her?” Nero looks slightly suspicious, as if he's expecting some hidden motive even though this is literally the second time Dante's given him a powerful devil arm.

“I'm sure, kid. Besides, she likes you better than she's ever liked me so I think the two of you will do just fine together.”

The way the kid lights up before he heads over to Kyrie does Dante good. It's the kind of shit he needs to keep his thoughts off the reappearance of his brother.

His brother who claims he's here for Dante and no other reason, despite how this is the exact opposite of what has always been true before this.

It has to be a trick. A game of some kind. All Dante needs to do is wait and Vergil will show his true face again.

If Dante really kills him this time, will he still grieve? Or will the hateful anger finally burn that out of him?

As he watches the kids talking, Dante wonders what he'll do if Vergil really is sincere, as minuscule as the odds for it are. If Vergil just wants to be a part of Dante's life again, if he's not planning another betrayal… Can Dante forgive him?

No, shouts the anger, loud and fierce.

Yes, whispers the small wounded part, buried deep.

Dante closes his eyes and breathes. Time will tell.

#

Dante's mind is reeling. He's hiding in the basement, not wanting anyone to see him right now. A half-full bottle of vodka hangs loosely in his fingers.

Vergil's words echo in his head.

_ "Like I said, you have a lot of time to reflect when you're nothing but an incorporeal consciousness in constant agony. It certainly gave me time to see where I went wrong. What my mistakes were." _

Vergil's pride has never really allowed him to admit to making mistakes, not even when they were kids, long before everything went to shit.

He never admits when he's wrong and he never apologises. That was Vergil. That's always been Vergil.

And now…

It's hard to breathe.

_ “Embracing my humanity means acknowledging the feelings and bonds I previously refused. Like the little brother I threw away and betrayed." _

Isn't that was Dante's always wanted? For his brother to care? To  _ want _ him?

He can't make sense of what he's feeling. He's still so very very angry, so hurt and confused. And yet… Vergil admitting that Dante  _ means something _ to him…

Dante takes a long drink of vodka straight from the bottle. He can't actually afford to get drunk off his ass right now, because if all of this is just a ploy… just a long con, then Dante needs to be at his best to make sure he can keep his friends safe. Keep the kids safe.

Still. One bottle of vodka won't hurt.

Besides, Vergil left.

Supposedly only temporarily, but who knows if that's true or not. It's what he said before he fucked off when they were kids too.

Dante waited for days, weeks, before finally giving up and accepting that his brother had left him. He won't make that same mistake twice.

#

When he gets back to the front room, Trish gives him an arch knowing look. She's judging him. She knows better than anyone what he's dealing with, she should be proud he's not completely drunk off his ass right now. He just makes a face at her and moves to his desk giving a two-finger salute to the kids.

They're sitting close together on the couch, talking about something in low voices. If he concentrates, Dante can hear whatever it is they're saying, but he's not all that interested. He's not much of a gossip.

The phone rings and Dante picks it up for once; Trish usually beats him to it.

It's a terrified man with the password, yelling about a congregation of demons.

It takes Dante a while to get the details out of the man, but it's pretty close and shouldn't be much work. With how much money the man is offering, it's looking more than worth it.

Just as he puts the phone down, he sees a clean and sharply dressed Vergil stepping into the room.

"Well, looks like we've got another mission, Trish," he says with a shrug as the phone lands in the cradle, deliberately not reacting to Vergil's presence.

Trish rolls her shoulders and briefly stretches her arms over her head.

"Looks like it's time to head out then,” she says and picks her guns up to fasten to her belt.

Dante gets to his feet and does the same with Ebony and Ivory.

"Can I come along," Nero suddenly says. Dante blinks at him in surprise, he didn't expect that. He glances briefly at Kyrie, but shrugs. They can do what they want.

"If you want, kid, but you're not gonna get paid, just so you know." He isn't even sure what Nero's money situation looks like, but he figures he should warn him anyway.

"That's what you always tell Lady," Trish says and laughs, hiding her mouth behind her hand. Dante rolls his eyes at her, she's not wrong but she didn't have to point it out.

"That's fine, I don't need money. I just..." Nero looks at Kyrie and scratches his cheek, clearly not wanting to bring her along into danger. Which, honestly, makes sense. From what Dante's seen, Kyrie doesn't exactly have any talents in the art of battle or even self defense.

"It's okay, Nero. I can stay here with Mister Vergil. I'll be fine," she says, smiling brightly.Dante blinks at her on disbelief. Despite what she were told about him, she's still willing to trust him? Even though what she has to go on is “he used to be evil but he seems kinda different”?

Well… the kid probably won't go for it.

"Uh, is that okay?" Nero asks Vergil, taking Dante by surprise. So Nero’s willing to take a chance on Dante's “feeling” too…

Perhaps Dante's the only one who doesn't.

"Fine. I'm not going anywhere, so unless she starts running into traffic or playing tags with demons without me, she'll be just fine,” Vergil says with a shrug.

Despite the unflattering view of her the words paint, Kyrie just laughs. When the rest join in, Dante forces a chuckle even though he's not sure Vergil was actually joking at all.

Still, he leads the way out of the shop, hoping they won't come to regret this.

#

The mission goes without trouble, easiest money Dante's made in a while. In fact, the hotel owner is so pleased to be rid of the demons that have been scaring away guests that he pays them double the original promise.

Dante's humming to himself as they make their way back to Devil May Cry.

The door slides open to reveal a very quiet and very empty front room.

Dante heart plummets to his stomach.

Oh fuck. Oh no.

That's not…  _ Why? _ What could Vergil  _ possibly _ want with Kyrie? She's just a regular human. Unless this is some bullshit because Nero’s his kid, there's no reason for this!

“Kyrie?  _ Kyrie?” _ Nero's eyes are wild as his head whips around, searching the room for any sign of her.

Before Dante or Nero can get any more worked up, however…

"I'll be right there, Nero!" Kyrie’s voice comes from further inside, and Dante's horror is left floundering in a sea of confusion as he follows Nero further in to find her.

“Oh thank god,” Trish mutters, too low for Nero to hear. Clearly she'd been as worried as Dante once the front room was empty.

Nero pushes a door open and inside…

Vergil is seated on a couch, arms crossed and eyebrow raised, looking entirely unimpressed with them.

Kyrie is standing by what looks like an improvised gun range holding—!

"Kyrie?! Is that a gun?" Nero's face is baffled.

He can't tell, of course he can't. Dante gnashes his teeth together just briefly.

"Vergil. You gave her a devil arm?" Dante can't believe how irresponsible that is. She's a human with no training whatsoever. A devil arm could eat her alive in seconds. It's a small miracle that she's still alive at all.

"He's been teaching me to shoot, Mister Dante," Kyrie says, trying for cheerful but clearly worried. If only she knew how close death she is. Teaching someone to shoot with a devil arm? Dante is going to—!

"It's Adelaide," Vergil says and meets his gaze. Dante flinches and his thoughts halt in their tracks.

"Oh. Right. Adelaide. Of course," he says hoarsely.

The one devil arm that would be entirely safe for Kyrie.

"I thought you needed to have demon powers to use a devil arm?" Nero finally manages to get out.

"Adelaide is... special." Dante stares at the gun.

But why would Vergil…?

Unless this isn't a game. Unless Vergil actually is sincere. Unless he actually meant what he said. He's not after power, he's accepted his human side, he wants to rekindle lost bonds, he wants… Dante.

He swallows.

"I'll tell you later, Nero, I promise." She shifts from foot to foot, awkward. Dante wonders what Vergil told her. "Where should I put Adelaide?"

While the question was directed to Vergil, it's Dante who answers, "Keep her on you. She won't be much protection if you leave her behind."

Never leave her behind.

Never.

He breathes and tries to keep the memories at bay, avoiding Vergil's gaze.

#

Blood blood blood on the kitchen floor. Screaming in horror. Tears and snot. His brother's forehead pressed against his own.

Warm blood and soft skin.

Mom.

Mom please.

Mom I'm sorry please don't die

Don't go

I'm sorry

We're sorry

We didn't want this

Mom please

Dante shakes himself out of his thoughts, his memories, and returns to the present. He can still feel his mother's slowly cooling body in his arms. Vividly remembers the feeling of being covered in her blood.

He scar on his hand aches as he remembers being pressed against Vergil. They were alone now. There was no one else in the world but them.

They were supposed to stay together.

But Vergil left.

Dante grits his teeth.

Fucking Vergil.

Coming back  _ now _ after  _ years _ of being dead and bringing up painful memory after painful memory.

Suddenly now feeling like they should be family.

Suddenly caring.

Suddenly wanting Dante in his life.

If his is a ploy, a con… Dante will kill him, ripping his heart out in the process. But there's nothing else to be done.

If this is fake, then Dante will need to end it. Once and for all.

He doesn't want to. He wants to believe it's real.

Please let it be real.

#

He lets Vergil have his room and stays in the basement instead. It gives him easy access to alcohol and ensures Vergil doesn't know where he sleeps.

While Dante wants to believe in his brother's change of heart, he's also afraid to. He doesn't want to be discarded again.

Time passes, Lady comes and goes, pizza parties are had, Kyrie's shooting education continues, missions are taken and completed, Vergil stays.

Sometimes Dante feels Vergil's eyes upon him, heavy and intense.

There's something in them he can't figure out, but it makes him feel hot under the collar.

But what they mean… he doesn't know. He has an idea, but he can't believe it. It has to be something else.

Days pass.

He dreams sometimes.

Wandering hands, hot breaths against his neck, teeth scraping against his collar bone, heat and sweat and pleasure.

He wakes up panting, rock hard in his sleep trousers, and wonders.

The person he's having sex with is shrouded in shadow, Dante doesn't catch sight of his face even once.

And then Vergil looks at him, and Dante swallows hard.

It can't be.

He wouldn't.

Two days after Nero and Kyrie finally head back to Fortuna City, Dante dreams again.

The dream is almost startling in how life-like it is, how real it seems. He's walking through Devil May Cry, dark and quiet, with nothing on his body.

Entirely nude.

He can feel goosebumps pebbling his skin as he heads for his bedroom.

It wouldn't be the first time he's walked around naked in this place in the middle of the night. Sometimes sleeping with clothes is more of a hassle than it's worth.

He opens his bedroom door. It's illuminated by nothing but moonlight, but Dante can still see clearly enough. On the bed…

Vergil looks like he's been waiting for him and proceeds to waste no time.

The bed is soft against Dante's back, a contrast to the hard but warm feeling of Vergil's chest against his own.

Vergil's kiss is hard and biting as his hands move to spread Dante's legs.

Dante surrenders.

When he wakes up in the morning he's shaking with the aftershocks of an orgasm.

He gets to his feet shakily. He needs… he needs to shower, wash away all traces of having come in his pants from a fucking wet dream about having sex with his brother.

Fuck.

Way to find new ways to give Vergil the power to hurt you, Dante.

#

He stops being proper. He can't be arsed to care about being fully dressed at all times anymore.  He's been caring because Vergil's here, but now…

He's not sure why, but he enjoys Vergil's heavy stares more when he's not fully dressed. Perhaps he's teasing him, if Vergil's looks mean what they imply, at least. Like some form of weird incestuous gay chicken.

When Lady and Trish go off on a several weeks long mission together, Dante expects  _ something _ to happen.

But no. Vergil spends more time out of the shop and occasionally follows along on one of Dante's missions, but nothing else changes.

Vergil makes no move, just keeps on with the intense looks, and Dante  _ refuses _ to make the first move.

If he's misread Vergil's feelings and wants, then he'll no doubt be losing his brother again, and fuck that. If anything is to happen, it has to be Vergil.

Unless Vergil takes the leap and lets himself be vulnerable, nothing will happen.

By the time Lady and Trish are set to return any day now, Dante has entirely given up on the thought of anything happening at all. Vergil has settled in and doesn't seem about to be leaving any time soon, so at least it seems like Dante will have his brother in a familial capacity.

As soon as he's properly sure about that, he's going to punch the asshole in his fucking face for these past years.

For all that he plays at good humour, he's fucking pissed again. How the fuck do you forgive someone who isn't sorry? Who won't apologise? The closest Vergil has gotten is admitting to making mistakes, which is not a fucking apology.

He's sitting on the couch in a pair of old jeans watching crap TV when Vergil walks in, dressed to the nines as always.

Dante rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything. If Vergil wants to look like he's equally ready for battle and the runway at all times then that's his prerogative and none of Dante's business.

He is surprised when Vergil sits down next to him on the couch, barely any space between them, without a word. Dante glances at him, but Vergil seems entirely focused on the shitty drama on the screen, so Dante mentally shrugs and turns his attention back to it.

Time passes, the female main character in the show has yelled at her cheating boyfriend three times and left the room in tears twice by the time Dante no longer finds the shitty show funny. He groans and slides down the couch slightly, slouching and ignoring how his arm is now pressed against Vergil's, wondering if he should expend the energy to reach for the remote.

The main character crying  _ again _ makes his mind up for him, and he starts to reach over Vergil's lap for the remote.

Vergil's hand clamps down on Dante's forearm, startling him.

“Vergil? I was just reaching for the re—”

“Dante,” Vergil cuts him off, voice low and hoarse.

Dante turns to look at his brother, utterly confused by this turn of events.

Until he sees the look on Vergil's face.

Slightly parted lips, dilated pupils, the smallest of flushes across his cheeks… hunger is practically written all over his face.

Dante's mouth drops open in surprise at seeing it so blatantly.

“Vergil?” he breathes, surprise obvious in his voice. But before Dante can gather his wits about him, Vergil drags him forward so he's forced to place his other hand on Vergil's upper thigh to keep his balance.

And then Vergil knocks Dante's supporting arm away and pulls him into his lap and Dante's suddenly very aware of how much less clothing he's wearing than Vergil as his bare chest presses against Vergil's shirt.

The kiss Vergil pulls him into is deep and hard from the get go, there's no slow warm-up or teasing, instead Vergil's tongue immediately slips into Dante's mouth and Dante's brain cells start to fry.

They make out on the couch for long minutes, and Dante finds himself clutching at Vergil's shoulders to keep himself steady against the ferocity of Vergil's passion.

He only barely chokes down a squeak when Vergil grabs him by the thighs to hold him up as he gets into a standing position, clearly wanting to move this somewhere else.

“Dante,” he murmurs as he let's go and makes Dante stand on his own, before he starts to divest himself of his shirt with nimble fingers.

Dante leaves him to it and slides his hands into Vergil's slicked back hair instead, focusing on the kiss over Vergil's ministrations.

They leave a trail of clothing toward Dante's bedroom as Vergil walks him backwards there, unwilling to stop kissing and touching for long.

And Dante surrenders to it.

#

The haze of orgasm recedes and they separate slightly, staring at each other as they pant for breath.

Dante's right hand is still pressed against the headboard, his left digging into Vergil's shoulder, and his legs are still tightly wrapped around Vergil's waist.

Vergil's hair is a complete mess, his hands still clutch at Dante's hips with bruising strength, and his dick is still hard and shoved deep inside Dante’s ass.

They probably make quite the picture, all things considered.

Should he say something?

What  _ do _ you say in a situation like this anyway?

Before Dante can contemplate it further, Vergil takes hold of his left wrist and moves Dante's hand from his shoulder. He stares at the palm and Dante becomes uncomfortably aware of the fact that Vergil is staring at the scar.

He opens his mouth to say… something,  _ anything, _ but before he can, Vergil runs his tongue along the length of it, eyes boring into Dante's.

And Dante finds himself without words, mouth slack and open.

Vergil smirks, the smug asshole.

And then he moves again, a long slow outwards stroke followed by a quick hard shove back in that makes Dante choke on a groan, throwing his head back on the pillow and forgetting all about talking.

“Just like that,” Vergil murmurs and doing it again.

Dante's abs jump and his legs shake from the stimulation.

Jesus fucking christ does Vergil even know what a refractory period is?

From the way his hips are picking up speed again, his cock sliding against Dante's inner walls and rubbing against his prostate, apparently not.

“Fuuuuck, Vergil,” Dante groans out, far louder than he'd planned, and lets himself be swept away again.

#

Dante would have preferred a lot more afterglow than he got, because seven rounds of sex is enough for anyone to want a little rest.

But since the girls clearly have a different opinion on that, Dante sucks it up and tries to not be horrifically embarrassed about being found by them during mid-foreplay with his twin brother. It hadn't been enough for him or Vergil to not want to go for a round eight, but it had still been embarrassing.

As was the fact that they'd obviously heard them going at it. Had they been that loud?

Dante moves to the shower on autopilot, not really paying attention to what he's doing. Consequently, he nearly jumps out of his skin when Vergil follows him in and presses up against his back, arms sliding around his waist.

“Did I startle you?” Vergil's voice is arch, verging on snide, and makes Dante roll his eyes.

Fucking hell, how does he find this asshole attractive in any way? If being twins didn't stop it, you'd think Vergil being a fucking asshole would.

“Just wasn't expecting you to want to share the shower,” he says, ignoring the familiar anger in his gut, though it's embers rather than flames.

Vergil says nothing and instead busies himself with sucking and chewing on Dante's neck as water starts falling over them.

Dante lets his head fall back on Vergil's shoulder, even as he considers the turn of events.

He's still angry.

He's fucked his brother, but he clearly hasn't forgiven him.

Vergil still hasn't apologised.

How long until this stalemate breaks? Does Vergil even consider it a stalemate? Does he even realise that Dante's angry with him?

Soon he has to push Vergil's hands off so they can soap up and actually get clean, and Vergil is less than helpful about it, the asshole.

It takes them far longer than it should to get ready and meet up with the girls who just flash Dante knowing grins—which puts Dante in a rather pissy mood, especially since he's kinda hungry.

The mission is nothing special, but at the same time it's everything Dante's ever wanted.

Fighting demons with his friends at his side and his brother at his back.

Except Dante's still stuck inside his own head, mulling over his anger and everything that's happened, longing for the oblivion of alcohol fuelled sleep. A few hours without thinking.

He's not blind, nor is he dumb, so he sees the looks Trish and Lady exchange and the confused suspicion on their faces. He supposes they thought he'd be happy now, and… well, he would have thought as much himself. He knows the resentment isn't healthy and if he could let go and be fine even without forgiving, he would. If he could forgive in order to not feel this awful, he would. But he can't do either, so he's stuck.

He almost wishes Vergil had never come back.

The post-mission pizza party helps keep his mind off things, as does the feeling of Vergil's thigh pressed against his own, but once Trish and Lady head out, the melancholy and frustration returns; being alone with Vergil makes it worse.

He starts to head towards the basement, completely forgetting about a possible round eight or more. Before he can get anywhere, however, Vergil's hand close around his wrist, stopping him.

Dante turns and meets his brother's grim gaze.

“You're angry with me,” Vergil says, eyes narrowed.

Dante almost laughs; understatement of the century, that.

“I've been fucking pissed at you for over a decade, Vergil,” he says, humorlessly.

Vergil's expression doesn't change, but he tilts his head just slightly.

The silence stretches between them and time passes slowly, like molasses.

“I never apologised.” Vergil moves closer, hand coming up to stroke some of Dante's hair out of his face. “Not for leaving you behind, nor for betraying you.”

“You didn't,” Dante agrees. Trust Vergil to get right at the heart of things.

“I acknowledged that I made mistakes, but never expressed regret.” His fingers trail down Dante’s cheek.

“You didn't.”

Vergil releases Dante's wrist and wraps his arm around him instead, pulling him into a loose hug, hand cupping his cheek.

“I spent so long thinking about what a mistake it was, what a fool I was to do it, and how if the choice was put before me now, I would never repeat it… that somehow I forgot that you cannot read my mind, cannot feel my regret when I hide it deep.”

Dante says nothing, simply meets his brother's gaze unflinchingly.

“I'm sorry.” Vergil doesn't break eye contact. “I won't say I'll never hurt you or do something that pisses you off again, we're too volatile a combination of personalities for that, but I will not betray you or discard you again.”

There's a brief pause as Dante tries to gather his thoughts, to sort out his feelings.

“I'm still going to beat you up for giving away my sword, though.” A smirk appears on Vergil's lips.

Dante can't stop the laugh that bursts free from his lips. It tastes of release, relief, and almost unbearable hope.

He rests his forehead against Vergil's as he laughs, allows Vergil to pull him in closer, allows Vergil to silence his laughter with a kiss, allows the kiss to deepen, allows Vergil to touch him with intent.

Dante surrenders to his brother again...

And finally forgives him.


End file.
